The Path of Man
by Kryptik1
Summary: The paths we take define who we are. One path may lead a man to be considered a joke. The other path may see him become something much different. Gouken and his students know this all too well... (Alternate Continuity)
1. Looking Ahead

There is a martial arts style that is quite unlike any other. It is not a sole discipline, persay, but a loose combination of several styles, surrounding a core focus, a power that held all the techniques and teachings together into one devastating art. The way of the Hadou is steeped in the arts of Ansatsuken, the killing fist. It is only one of many paths of Ansatsuken, perhaps one of the most deadly. The way of the Hadou is focused on concentrating your inner strength and power, your 'chi', and releasing it through the various techniques which the art is known for. A select few would recognize the art, likely mistaking it for a form of karate rather than the amalgamation of styles it truly is. Even fewer are blessed to know the art, as it has been only taught to a lucky, extremely dedicated few.

Over the years, its power has been honed, the art refined, until one such master of the Hadou developed a technique so deadly, it was said to have not only killed the only man it was used against, but given a glimpse of literal hell to not only him in his last moments, but to those who had witnessed it. The creator of this move, aware of the power invoked by this move, dubbed it the Satsui no Hadou, the 'Killing Intent', for only those who intended to kill his opponent would dare unleash it. While the whole of techniques that fell under the banner of this art used this power, it was this technique, the Shun Goku Satsu (otherwise dubbed the Raging Demon by the unlucky few who would witness the technique in later years) that defined the style. While its creator was satisfied with the technique, he would never use it again, believing it to be overkill.

This master of the Hadou, the creator of the Satsui no Hadou, had two students, each brother to the other. The younger was so focused in his goal to refine himself and the art into something almost godlike. The elder brother, horrified by the sheer power, refused to use it to its deadly potential for fear of what it might bring if it were ever refined further. While the younger would leave his teacher in hopes of perfecting the way of the Satsui No Hadou, the elder would soon become a teacher himself, taking upon two students of his own (as was common in this lineage of practitioners). He made sure that his students were aware of the Satsui No Hadou, but willed them never to invoke its power to such a dark extent.

His students would soon grow into promising martial artists in their own right. Satisfied that his path of the Hadou (a still impressive art despite the de-emphasis of its deadliest aspects) was a good one, he soon took on more students, hoping to spread the art as much as he could, bucking the tradition of his own teacher, and his teacher before him. And so the art grew, and in time, he hoped, the Satsui no Hadou would be forgotten, and the Shun Goku Satsu a mere legend….

* * *

**Street Fighter:**

**The Path of Man**

**By Kryptik**

**_Chapter 1_: Looking Ahead**

* * *

Disclaimer: Gouken, Ryu, Dan, Ken, and Gouki are all property of Capcom LTD., and used without permission for the sake of this story (please don't sue me, I'm a poor student). 

All other characters are those of my own making, unless otherwise noted.

* * *

**In a secluded dojo somewhere in the woods of Japan…**

"My students, come to me!" an authoritative voice shouts across the training grounds, garnering a "HAI, SENSEI!" in response. Standing within the sparse walls of his dojo, a man of large stature (and possibly even larger rosary beads) stands, his thick arms folded over a barrel chest. Standing in his faded charcoal gi, the master of the Hadou known as Gouken looked over the forest, watching through the swaying branches at the training field his students were currently running away from. Nodding firmly, he methodically walked his way to the back of his dojo, stopping bare inches from the wall before he turned around and slowly lowered himself to the floor, legs folding in front of him. For all his discipline and training, age still gnawed at his bones. Even if he was a remarkable specimen of human achievement, 70 years will make anyone feel old.

As he waited, Gouken closed his eyes, meditating and clearing his mind of unnecessary thoughts, he contemplated the paths he and his students would take, and even the path his long estranged brother may have taken in his quest for perfection. Such thoughts were soon broken as the sound of feet upon stone echoed into his ears. His students had come.

Opening his eyes, he watched as his students, one in an off-white gi and another in a bright red, slowly lowered themselves to the floor, mirroring their teacher's posture. Reverently, they waited for several minutes until Gouken finally broke the silence in the room. "My students…you have come a long way. I have seen you progress in your training by the day, not only physically, but mentally and spiritually. It may not be long before I may be forced to refer to either of you as sensei."

"Sensei, don't be foolish! We could never replace you!" the one in the white-gi exclaimed, his measured tone unable to hide the strain in his voice.

"But you shall have to. I am as mortal as you are. Despite my training, I cannot undo the effects of time. It may be soon or it may be later, but I will die. And then someone will have to carry the art on," Gouken says, sighing heavily as he rests his hands on his knees. His flaring white beard bristles as the air passes through it. "I am sure when that comes, however, I will be glad to pass the honor to either of you.

Both his students look downcast at this admission, unsure of how to react. The red-gi'd student lets his head rise, mouth open to speak…before he thinks better of it and looks back down, frowning and instead choosing to stroke his ponytail nervously.

Sensing the awkwardness hovering over the room, Gouken opens his eyes and rises, looking down upon his prize pupils. "You, Ryu…you have grown much since I first found you as but a baby," he says, gaze directed toward the white-gi'd youth, no more than 16. His light brown hair, an odd feature for a Japanese man, hovered over the white headband around his forehead. While he had some growing to do, it was obvious simply by sight that he had trained extensively through his youth. "You are a strong young man, and at the rate that you have grown, you shall be capable of great things quite soon."

"Thank you, sensei," Ryu says politely, his body bowing respectfully to the towering man. Having no memory of when he was taken in by the master, his life has essentially revolved around this dojo, and the surrounding lands. It's no surprise that he'd be remarkable, though, as he had been under Gouken's tutelage since the age of 6 (even if he only started his true training four years later). Despite having been raised by Gouken, the praise is still something he did not quite expect.

With Ryu contemplating his words, Gouken turns toward his other student. He, much like Ryu, had obviously been training for much of his life, his musculature alone identifying him as a martial artist. "And you…you have been remarkable as well. When you first arrived here, you had seemed like your life and your emotion would cloud you to your true potential. However, I can see that your dedication to truly bettering yourself has not been in vain. You have grown as well, and your ability to adapt techniques to your own will is more than I could have expected. You, as well, have excelled."

The ponytailed artist simply bows in silence, finding no words in the face of such praise. "However, as you both realize, you can never truly learn how far you've come until you experience a true fight." Both heads rise up. They've heard such leadups by their teacher before. They know what's coming next. "I have heard news of a martial arts tournament in Osaka in 2 weeks time. I would suggest that you both enter, in order to properly gauge your skills. Is that understood?"

Both his students reply quickly and in unison with a stereo shout of "Hai, sensei!"

Smiling, the mountain of a man raises his hands, willing them both to stand up. "That shall mean, of course, that your training shall need to be increased to ensure that you are prepared." Taking up a bow-legged stance, fists upturned next to his waist, he waits for his students to follow his example, which they do without hesitation. In a strange moment of introspection, Gouken ponders of his brother, wondering if he has decided to do as he has done, teaching what he has learned to others. (Gouki, what path have you taken since we last met?) he thinks, before such thoughts are left for later contemplation. With a "HYAH!", he punches into the air, watching both students copy his movements with perfect timing as their training commences in earnest.

**Later that evening…**

"Ryu?" Hearing his name called, the brown haired prodigy turns around, having just finished up his meager meal and preparing for some meditation before bedtime.

"Hrm? What is it?"

"Do you truly believe that Gouken-sensei was serious about what he said earlier?"

"Why would he lie to us?" the youth responds, closing his eyes as he settles upon a nearby rock, the ambient sounds of a nearby waterfall hissing through the shaky silence of the night.

"I suppose you're right." Turning around, the ponytailed fighter starts to walk off to his own meditation spot. However, before he can get too far however, he finds that it's his turn to be interrupted.

"What exactly did Master Gouken say that troubled you?" Ryu asks, legs folded, arms resting loosely in his lap.

"…nothing. It's nothing," his fellow student says, his brown ponytail swishing as he shakes his head.

"If you say so, Hibiki-san." Closing his eyes, Gouken's disciple soon empties his mind, focusing his inner being as best he can, leaving Dan Hibiki to his own devices.

(It's been a long time since I first came here…have I really gotten over it?) the Hong Kong-born fighter thinks to himself. It's been 7 years since that fateful day, the day he chose this path. The day that was his father's death as he was brutally beaten in his attempt to claim the title of God of Muay Thai.

**That Night...**

Dan's sleep was restless as he was assailed by visions. Visions of mimicking his father as he trained in their backyard, visions of his father kneeing an opponent viciously in the gut during yet another of his many matches, and most importantly, the visions of the man who Hibiki knew to be his killer. That gnarled nose, that dead, unfocused eye which prompted his father's fatal beating, and that cold, merciless expression.

However, that was not what disturbed Dan the most. What disturbed him the most was seeing that same face, beating as bloody and twisted as his father's once was. He only got a glimpse of the man who had created such a mess in his dream, and nothing more than a silhouette. However, he didn't need to see much to make out one distinguishing detail from the shadow, enough to make out who it was.

The figure's hair….specifically the ponytail. HIS ponytail. Snapping up from his bedroll with a gasp, he cups his face in his hand, sweat beaded on his forehead. "What's going on…did I…could I really be capable of that?" he asks himself out loud in low tones. Was this just a dream? Was it a premonition? Or was it simply a warning of what he could become?

* * *

Author's Notes: That was a fairly short non-prologue chapter, now wasn't it? Anyways, if you haven't noticed, that IS Dan Hibiki, training with Ryu. No, I'm not crazy...just curious about the idea of what might have happened if Dan was never kicked out of Gouken's dojo and remained under his tutelage along with Ryu. As you can see, he's not quite the taunting pink wonder he turned out to be, is he? Just for the record, this is about 7 years after Dan's father was killed in his match with Sagat, and 8 years before the Alpha series gets underway. 

Oh, and for those who wonder where the heck Ken is...don't worry. I plan on explaining his current absence next chapter. ;) Other Street Fighter characters will likely appear as well, though just who will make appearances aside from the usual suspects is still up in the air.

Anyways, hopefully I didn't make too many mistakes in this chapter, and god wiling the next chapter will be finished pretty soon. And of course, Reviews, Suggestions, and Criticismare always welcome.

**- Kryptik**


	2. Killing Intent, Fearful Intent

**Three Months Later, in Gouken's Dojo…  
**

Autumn touched upon the forest in the isolated reaches of Japan where the master in the way of the Hadou known as Gouken trained and taught. As the other inhabitants of this area prepared for the winter just beyond the horizon, so too did the old master in his own way. The weathered wooden doors were slid closed to keep the breezy winds from blowing through the old dojo as the imposing martial artist sat in the middle of the floor, legs folded beneath him, large rosary beads hanging from his neck.

However, it was not meditation, nor prayer that brought him to this position. Rather, it was a letter, somewhat of a rarity for Gouken, considering how secluded he tended to be. Still, it was a rare pleasure for him, especially considering whom the sender was. It may have been strange for someone so far removed from society to get an envelope bearing the letterhead of one of the most prestigious companies in the world. However, those who knew Chris Masters, the head of MastersCorp, it might not be so strange for him to keep company with a sagely man such as Gouken. The story of their meeting is a longer one than is necessary to explain, but since then they've been in good contact, especially in matters of philosophy. It was Masters' surprising grasp of the subject and its complexity that endeared the company president to the master…that and it was something to find someone so worldly that could propose a quandary that even someone like the old Ansatsuken teacher couldn't answer.

Perhaps it was for this reason that Gouken found himself disappointed when he finally read the letter. Peeling open the flap of the envelope, he pulled the folded piece of paper from its sheath, eyes scanning across the characters on the page. While he had been smiling in anticipation of answer to a hypothetical he had posed to Masters some months ago, his lips curled into a light frown as he read the brief letter, his angular beard drooping slightly.

"Gouken-san,

"Ken is recovering well from his injuries. I may consider returning him to your stead to continue his training.

Masters

P.S. - I apologize for the briefness of this letter, as certain company matters have prevented me from responding earlier."

Staring at the short message for at least a minute, the imposing old fighter folds up his letter, slipping it aside the envelope again before he stands from the floor. Shaking his head as he makes his way toward the doors to the side of the dojo, he slides the door away and picks up his geta sandals, strapping them on his feet. His steps clack and echo across the stone pathway he marches down, the sound only interrupted by the morning chirps of the local birds.

He finally reaches his destination, the cliff overlooking the waterfall near the training grounds. A favorite spot for all of his students, past and current. Sighing, he lowers himself to the ground again, looking down as the river water rushes off the cliff into the pool below. "Ken…" he mutters, a few memories best left forgotten floating to the surface. But as he mulls over events past, he is watched by yet another spectre perhaps best left forgotten, red eyes piercing from the shadows of the mountains as they glare at Gouken's meditating figure.

"It's time…"

* * *

**Street Fighter:**

**The Path of Man**

**By Kryptik**

**_Chapter 2_: Killer Intent, Fearful Intent**

**

* * *

Elsewhere, at a Train Station in Tokyo…**

"Looks like you need some more ice," Gouken's elder student, one Dan Hibiki comments over to his younger companion, his duffel bag held up by one hand while the other hefts a rather impressive trophy, nearly 3 ½ feet tall. Interestingly enough, he's sans his usual red gi, instead dressed casually in a simple t-shirt and jeans combo.

"I'm fine, thank you," Ryu, himself dressed in a long sleeve shirt and a pair of gray sweatpants, comments back as he presses a quickly warming cold compress onto his cheek. His own duffel hangs loosely from his shoulder, a reasonably smaller trophy held in his free hand as the two wait along the train platform, seemingly oblivious to the bustle around them.

"Hey, don't worry about it. It's not too bad of a bruise. Still, it's a shame what happened. Didn't think that Kyokugen kid had that hard of a punch on him." Lowering his duffel down to a bench behind them, Dan slowly pats the headbanded youth comfortingly. "The best of us lose every now and then. Hell, I lost my first five tournaments before I managed to make it to a final."

"He's gotten better since last year. And it's not losing that's bothering me." The shorter of the two squirms a bit as he adjusts his cold compress, tugging slightly at his clothes as he starts to sit back into the bench. "I'd rather be wearing my gi right now." Of course, this draws an exasperated sigh from the elder martial artist, prompting Dan to take a seat next to Ryu, dropping his trophy to the ground between them.

"Gis are good for training and fighting in, but they're not good for things outside of that. You don't want people to think you're a hobo or anything, right?" The sour look that Dan gets for his trouble tells him, however, that perhaps that was not the best way to explain it. "Look, Ryu. There's a big world out there. A big world with a lot of things to offer." A calloused hand extends out, spread out as the elder Ansatsuken fighter guides his arm across the entire train station. "This is just a minute part of it. All the tournaments we've gone to, they're just a tiny fraction of it. The training grounds and Gouken-sensei's dojo are an even tinier part. There's a lot around us…you can't approach everything you come across as chances for training or for proving your training. I'm as dedicated to the Way as you are…but I can still see beyond my fist."

It takes Ryu a while to digest this, wondering how a complaint about not using his gi turned into a lecture on the wideness of the world. The more Dan speaks though, the more Ryu starts to understand a bit. "I see…" he says, choosing not to make any sort of counter comment or agreement. He simply mulls over it, causing Dan to frown a bit worriedly at his fellow student.

"…you can think about things on the train. Now c'mon, it's just about to pull in."

"Hai," is the quick response, Ryu picking his duffel up quickly and following after the hurrying Hibiki as they march toward the platform just in time to see the train brake into the station.

* * *

**In San Francisco, USA…**

"Honey, are you almost packed?" a kind, slightly accented female voice calls out in the rather spacious house, prompting the boy known as Ken Masters to rush a bit as he struggles to pack up everything into one bag.

"I'll be down in a minute mom!"

"Well, hurry, we need to get to the airport as soon as possible!" Sighing, Taka Masters turns toward her own set of bag set near the wide front doors. "I still don't know if this is a good idea." Her voice wavers nervously, rubbing her eyes tiredly before she reaches behind her head, pulling her long, straight black hair into a loose ponytail. As she tightens the band around her hair, her tired face looks back upstairs to her son's bedroom, looking slightly older than her forty years normally showed. Though perhaps she had her Asian heritage to thank for that.

"I know, honey. But nothing else has worked. Counseling, normal sports, community service…I don't know. I thought after the accident, he might tone things down a little, but..." Slipping in from a rather spacious living room, a tall, rigid man in a slate gray three-piece suit that just screamed "business man", even if the rather sporty climbing rolled behind him was anything but business-like. As he pushes up his thin-wired glasses up his nose, Chris Masters, corporate president and apparent philosopher in his own right, sighs, leaning forward on his backpack. "I just hope he doesn't hate us too much for not telling him why we're going to Japan."

"Tell me what?" Both Taka and Chris snap their gaze to the top of the stairs in surprise, staring at their teen son peering curiously down at them, dressed in the trendiest he could muster (if only in brand name rather than look). Dark eyebrows rise in a rather suspicious expression as light brown eyes watch his parents exchange nervous glances to each other.

"Nothing important. We'll tell you on the plane," Chris quickly offers, eyes closing as a nervous grin spreads across his face.

"Now hurry up, or we might not check-in in time!" Taka quickly follows, voice more stern as she claps a few times, cuing the young child of wealth down the stairs. "Trust me, we all need this trip." This only garners a silent eyeroll from Ken as he climbs down the staircase, suitcases in hand as the Masters family finally makes their way out the door.

* * *

**Back in Japan…**

"Huh…I knew that Ken kid acted spoiled, but I didn't realize he was THAT rich." While Dan was ages more worldly than Ryu was in his formative years, no one could claim that he wasn't oblivious at times. The fact that he only made the connection between Ken and MastersCorp after reading the paper on the train was easily proof of that. "Fancy that," the elder Ansatsuken fighter comments, tossing the paper into trash can as he and the younger fighter by his side make their way out of the station and prepare for the trek back to Gouken's Dojo.

"You were gone for much of the time he was here, weren't you?" Ryu asks, adjusting his headband before hefting up his duffel marching his way down the backroad leading to the trail into the mountains.

"Yeah, I suppose I was." As Dan follows the younger student, his face takes on an uncomfortable look, finger coming up to pick at his ear nervously. (Please don't ask any more…please don't ask any more…)

"So…how did you get lost for so long in America?"

(Dammit!) Finding himself face to face with the one question he didn't feel like answering, Dan found himself left to only glare at the back of Ryu's head, wondering how he ended up feeling like the rookie between the two of them. "It's a long story…."

* * *

"Gouken..." The old master, having returned to his dojo to further meditate since the morning, had lost track of time as he meditated, pondering the letter he had received, as well as his students' imminent return. By the time his consciousness was roused again, it was nearly nighttime. As he heard the voice calling his name, he wondered, could his students be back already? However, as the voice beckons closer, it becomes obvious it belongs to neither Ryu nor Dan. The chilling voice, nearly inhuman, with an edge cutting like a razor...it could only belong to one man, Gouken thought.

"Gouki."

"I can feel it...you've grown weak. You've become too satisfied with yourself. You've lost the true way of the Hadou. This is the path you've taken?" Feeling his brother's dark presence edge further, Gouken bristles, drawn to stand from his meditative position. Fists tighten as he scans across the shadows of his unlighted dojo. As the aura comes closer, even the little moonlight that comes through the shogi doors fades, almost leaving the room pitch black. "You pass on an inferior style. Coddling your pups, and hiding them from the truth of the art. You've satisfied simply to survive rather than succeed. You've lost sight of the one thing that matters most."

Suddenly, the Dojo shakes, the very foundation quaking as something lands upon the roof. A gentler, but still foreboding impact can be heard outside of the doors, just before the doorway slides open, revealing the source of the shuddering crash. While the figure was not particularly tall, even taking into account his fiery top-knotted hair, he made up for his lack of height with a sheer commanding presence. His skin was bronzed to the point that one might believe he was tanned in the fires of hell itself, his gi the same charcoal as Gouken's. His build was not quite as massive as Gouken's, but there was no doubt each sinew rippled with strength. As he spoke, his teeth glinted dangerously despite the lack of light. "Victory!" The word is drawn out slowly, each syllable drawn out as the dark-skinned man approaches methodically.

"I have not forgotten, Gouki. I simply reject that way of life. Victory is not worth destroying lives over." Gouken doesn't kid himself. He knows that this meeting will only end in one result. Despite his wishes, he knows that once the words are dispensed with, their fists will meet. However, ever the optimist, he insists on making his side of this argument known. Still, he prepares himself. Feet shift ever so slowly apart as he lowers his center of balance. His hands raise from his side, one held just below chin level, the other in front of him, guarding his side and stomach: the standard stance of their style. "One can become a master of the art without killing."

"Fool. Martial arts are the art of war. The art of pain. The art of death. You deny the truth of the fight. The truth of nature. That the weak die..." Gouki doesn't mirror Gouken's stance. Rather, he lifts up a leg, slamming it down on the floor in a bowlegged stance, his far arm held at his waist while the one nearest to Gouken is held just a little higher, fist extended aggressively toward Gouken. "And the strong survive." Soon, the whole dojo lights up with his blazing red aura, one that could only be described as hellish.

"And that is where we will never agree, brother. I am not willing to risk lives for my betterment or the betterment of my students." Despite the aura, Gouken doesn't flinch. Instead, his own aura starts to shine. It's not quite as strong as Gouki's, but it's bright enough to see a halo of light blue rising from the master.

"You believe you can deny the true power of the Hadou. The power you call a taint is the true essence of it. You know this to be true. Otherwise, you might have actually prevented such a 'taint' from reaching your students." This causes Gouken's aura to falter slightly, prompting a wider smile from Gouken, pointed teeth bared. "Yes...why do you think I came here...one of your own students has known the taste of the Satsui no Hadou. A glimmer I intend to foster. He will make a great opponent once he gives in to the truth of the art."

Finally, Gouken had enough. While he was going to wait for Gouki to instigate the conflict, he did not want to hear any more. "You've resorted to lies now!" he shouts, hands gathering at his side as he focuses his chi between his two palms. "I'll hear no more of it!"

Suddenly, with a thrust forward, both hands snap out, a flare of blue light launching forth from them like a comet with a call of "HADOUKEN!"

"Hrmph. You've lost your composure already?" the devilish Anatsuken fighter sneers, mimicking Gouken's motions before he too thrusts out a blast of his own, his chi stained a wicked purple, blazing a collision course right toward Gouken's own attack.

* * *

"Really...wow. No wonder he's been gone." As the two young charges made their way up the long, winding stone stairs up to Gouken's dojo, Ryu had filled in Dan a little further on what happened with Ken. "I didn't think it was that serious." 

"It shook him up enough that his father pulled took him back." Shaking his head as he marches upward, Ryu strains as he hefts his duffel high on his shoulders, trying not to let the weight drag him down to far. However, the weight of his bag soon becomes the least of his worries as a sudden flare of light illuminates the sky above the dojo brighter than any electric light could ever hope to. "...did that come from..."

"Yes it did..." Dan says quietly, eyes wide. His bag and trophy soon drop at his side in surprise, a second barely going by before his feet kick up into motion, the elder fighter sprinting his way up the stairs. No words are needed to convince his companion to do the same, either, as Ryu follows soon behind him, similarly unencumbered.

"What could be going on?"

"I don't know...but it can't be anything good."

* * *

"GOU ZANKUU!" "HADOUKEN!" Those two clashing shouts cry out from their respective owners, though they're barely audible over the sounds of their attacks crashing together. The resulting light, easily visible for at least a mile out, didn't seem to faze either combatant at all, however. Falling from the sky above the dojo, Gouki outstretched palm drew back only to be replaced by the other, smashing the heel against the side of Gouken's head while the older fighter was still recovering from the exertion of his own attack. 

"WEAK! Is this all you can muster, brother!" The demonic visage of the hellishly haired fighter simply stared down at Gouken, hand upraised to drive a finishing chop to the top of Gouken's head. "You've perverted the art for long enough with your complacency. It's time to finish this."

The finish never comes, however, as the bearded fighter snaps out of his crouch, bare arms flexing before a meaty right arm raises up, outstretched with hand clenched into a tight fist. A fist that smashes into Gouki's jaw and sends the vicious man's head rocking back with a cry of "SHORYUUKEN!" Twisting in the air after the impact, the balding Gouken glares down at his foe, eyes hard as he regards the man who would take his life. "Perverted it, brother! You who would kill indiscriminately just to prove your worth as a fighter, lecture me on the perversion of martial arts!" This barely elicits a grunt from Gouki before fists meet again, each man's knuckles tightening and flexing against the other's.

* * *

By the time Ryu and Dan manage their way back up to the dojo, the building is well-torn and wrecked, holes in the thick wooden walls, splintered stairs, and twisted shogi doors tossed a good 15 feet from the building. "My god...what happened?" Dan gasps quietly, staring at the shambles. Until he gets a tap on his shoulder, that is. "What?" he snaps anxiously and panickedly at Ryu...who just points up to the roof of the sleeping quarters a couple yards down the path. The very building that harbored the cause for all this destruction. "...sensei?" 

"Who is that with him?" Ryu asks, eyes wide as the two clash. Feet meet together, both sky-splitting roundhouse kicks colliding with an almost thunderous sound. The noise the two make is almost enough to cause Ryu to cringe away, arm upraised as if to shield himself from the chaos.

"I don't know, but...is this really martial arts? It's like watching two gods lashing out at each other," the ponytailed man gasps, watching as Gouki jumps over a slow sweeping kick his brother sends out, grasping the charcoal gi by the shoulders before pulling hard and driving Gouken down into the roof on his head.

"Or demons..." Ryu adds, watching Gouki stalk over to Gouken's seemingly broken form. "Wh...what can we do?" Looking down at his own hands, Ryu lips quiver a bit...before they pull back into a determined expression. Both hands draw back to his side, palms enclosing around some invisible object. As soon as a blue spark starts to form between them, however, his concentration is broken by his companion, wrist grabbed and pulled from the gathering point.

"No! You know you've barely gotten the hang of that! Do you think it'd be able to help against...that?" he asks, gesturing back to the ruined dojo behind them.

"But we've got to do something! Otherwise, sensei will..."

"SHOOOOOOOOORYUUUUUUUKEEEEEN!" Their plotting, however, is broken as soon as that gruff, familiar cry shouts out, followed by a sickening crack of bone. Snapping their gazes back, they see a hopeful sight: One of Gouken shooting up like a bullet, fist upraised in fearsome punch, while the demonic entity he had been fighting reeled back, blood spurting from his mouth. Landing gracefully on the roof, Gouken watches, slowly hunching over and grasping his stomach, until his opponent too lands, in a much less graceful manner. Dropping like a rock into the ground between Ryu and Dan and the sleeping quarters, the fiery haired fighter seems to be unmoving.

"Master! Let me help you finish him!" Dan shouts, running up to the prone Gouki.

"DON'T!" comes the admonishing shout, the authoritative voice of the old master echoing across the area, prompting both his students to freeze in their place. Despite his injured state, the thick bearded master manages to jump from the rooftop and land near his fallen opponent, landing just as gracefully as before until his body hunches again from his injuries. "It's over, Gouki..." Limping up to his brother, he looks down at his face, the fearsome sight even more twisted with bruises and broken cheekbones.

"No...its not finished," the dark-skinned fighter gasps raggedly, voice akin to talons scraping across glass. "Not until the final blow." Despite his beaten state, those wicked eyes light up, boring into Gouken like twin lasers. "FINISH IT."

"...no. That may be your way, brother...but it is not mine." Glaring down at the broken form, the grayed old man simply shakes his head. Pulling his head up, he look between his two students, eyes hard, even as the rest of his battered face betrays his exhaustion. "Help me bring him to the forest. We'll leave him there. He'll find a way to survive and mend well enough." Despite the look of hesitation and the confused glances the two students share, they nod silently. They both approach the prone form of Gouki, Dan taking him up by the midsection and Ryu by the legs, leaving the weakened Gouki to take his arms and head.

"You will regret this, brother. Your compassion and weakness shall haunt you until the day I finally prove myself superior, and prove your bastardized art as the sham it is." Still defiant, if only in tone, Gouki glares at the two students helping to carry him off away from Gouken's land. Seeing the fear in both of their eyes, he grins toothily at them, giving them a glimpse of the feral points of his teeth as he's carried off. Each growing notion of fear he feels through them, whether the unsteadiness of their fingers as they grip on his body, the cant of their heads as they try not to look directly at him, or even the quickening of their breath...he revels in it. Not because he enjoys making them afraid...no. Because he sees the path do the Satsui no Hadou in them.

(Fear...as much as any fighter wishes to eradicate it, it's within all but the most tempered. It is the key to the fighting instincts of even the most low of animals. Even a cornered rat will fight when no other options are left. I can see it in their eyes, brother...I can see their fear. And I can tell...one of them has already tasted what I have. They have felt the fear of failure. The fear of defeat that their fighting spirits cannot tolerate, cannot abide by. The fear that begets desperation. The desperation that begets the willingness to embrace even the most extreme of measures to attain their goal: the goal of victory. You have trained them in the way of the Hadou...but in your weakness, you have not torn away their fear. And that is where you have failed, Gouken. You've made their fighting spirit too strong to give up, but you have not erased their fear. And when that fear is enough...they will know what I know. They will taste the truth that one must do whatever they can to attain victory. That is when they will be shown the Satsui no Hadou. And that...my brother...is when my true equal shall arrive. You have won this day...but the power of the Satsui no Hadou does not fade. Our paths will cross again...and you will be shown your weakness. Then, you will agonize in your afterlife as your distraught students search to extract their revenge, and find the power you wished to deny them...)

While Gouken was no mindreader, he could sense what might have gone on in Gouki's fading mind as unconsciousness took him over. He knew that Ryu and Dan felt it too. The worrisome feeling of dread. The feeling that this was only the beginning of something. Something woefully inevitable...

* * *

The only one that had a peaceful sleep that night was the unconscious Gouki. For Gouken, sleep didn't come at all, the old master staring into the moonlight his mind too clouded to properly meditate. For Ryu, cursed visions of Gouki attacking him scarred his thoughts. Scarred to the point that soon, he could not tell who was who, silhouettes twisting and mutating to the point of incoherence. 

For Dan, however...the dreams were much more clear, and much more haunting. The same dream he's had for the last three months. That of him standing over the broken body of Sagat, fist clenched and stained deep red, the "God's" eye staring lifelessly at the fighter. Something was different, though. Something more sinister. While the last few dreams simply held his face in silhouette, this time the darkness was pierced...broken by two blazing red dots, haunting, murderous eyes he had only seen in one other man. The very man who had dared attack his master...

No...no rest came over the dojo...

* * *

Next Time in Path of Man: What will come in the aftermath of Gouki's attack? Just who amongst the three other Ansatsuken fighters harbors the fatal desire that he wished to foster? What of Dan's dreams, becoming painfully more vivid? And what will come of Ken's arrival? How DID he come to leave the tutelage of Gouken before? Questions answered, and more questions asked in the next chapter... 

**Author's Notes**: Whew...this was a long piece in the making. I originally intended to have Ken's arrival take place in this chapter, but after realizing how long this sucker was going to be, and how much I was trying to pack in here, I decided to leave that for another time. At least he's on the way, isn't he? ;) And while this fic was originally meant to focus much more on Ryu, Dan, and (eventually) Ken, it came out much more focused on Gouken. This will become very clear later (hopefully). Until then, enjoy the clash between masters, and look forward to the day after next time. Until then, Ja! ;)

Kryptik


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